


If I Get Sick, I'm Blaming You

by breathedeep_flyhigh



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Minor Character Death, Possibly Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-05
Updated: 2015-05-05
Packaged: 2018-03-29 04:12:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3881803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/breathedeep_flyhigh/pseuds/breathedeep_flyhigh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry needs to let off some steam after Sirius' death. Unfortunately, Draco finds him. This follows events from the fifth book rather than the film. I apologise in advance if anyone gets confused :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	If I Get Sick, I'm Blaming You

**Author's Note:**

> This is also posted on my fanfiction.net account (loyaltyofice) however, I noticed a few things that needed changing, mainly more commas were needed so I've posted the final edit here :)

Harry slammed the door to the headmasters office behind him and ran down the spiral staircase. He jumped the last three steps and skidded into the wall of the corridor, the cold stone doing nothing to cool him down. He could feel the prickly heat of rage crawl like fire ants under his skin. He yelled and screamed and punched the wall in front of him, not caring if anyone were around to see. The wreckage of Dumbledore's office was not enough. What good were broken trinkets when all Harry had wanted to do was break the headmasters' neck.

 

  He had to leave. Not wishing see anyone who had followed him into the wasteland that was the Department of Mysteries, he decided to leave the castle altogether. Without his cloak he had to take every secret passage he knew of to get him out. He had to get to the Quidditch pitch. He needed to find something that could soothe the ache inside him and flying at least, was a start.

 

  Harry flew circles around the Quidditch stadium, increasing his speed after each circuit until he was numb from cold. His cheeks stung as the wind began to blow and tried to knock him off course but when the wind died and the oppression of a close atmosphere weighed him down to the ground, Harry didn't notice he was slowing down. He came to a stop three feet from the floor and Harry tumbled into the grass below and he lay there drawing deep breathes that were growing shallower with every intake and his ribs began to protest the cold as he started to shake. It was here under the cover of bruised clouds the storm broke and Harry let it try and drown him. It was here Draco found him.

 

Draco hadn't wanted to find him. It was only at Professor Snape's order he was out here.

 

'Find Potter and drag him to the hospital wing.'

 

'What's he done now? Broke an arm playing hero again?'

 

'Just do it Draco or I'll deduct house points.'

 

  So Draco did as he was told and thirty minutes, two crying first years and a hiss from Mrs. Norris later, (her fault her tail was in the way stupid cat), Draco was cursing Potter from the castle doors to where the lazy git decided to take a nap on the Quidditch field and it had started to rain too.

 

'Oi Potter. Get up and get inside because I am not getting blamed if you catch a cold.'

 

  Harry heard but he couldn't move. He wanted to lay there in the soaking earth until the grass reclaimed him and grew into something new until there was nothing left of himself and his name was spoken of in passing.

 

'If you don't get up now Potter, I'm giving you a detention.'

 

Then again, Draco Malfoy was an annoying prick and Harry would move if only to get him to shut up. He dragged his body up and glared at Malfoy.

 

'There I'm up. Happy now?'

 

'Ha. My sides are splitting.' It was then it thundered and the sound ricocheted in the bowl of the stadium and the rain and wind drove them to the shelter of the changing rooms. 'Shit I guess we'll have to wait it out.'

 

   No shit Malfoy, thought Harry. All he wanted to do was go back to his dormitory and sleep but how could he when he knew it would bring with it the memories of death. In his head Harry could still see Sirius falling through the veil, still falling and waiting to be saved. Waiting with nothing but the grin and insanity of Bellatrix watching him fall.

 

  Harry thought about the battle over and over now the world outside had fled his ears and lungs and left the past to fill the gaps. The past which must be hours old now, stuck on a loop like a scratchy record and with each pass of the needle the picture would change.

 

He was watching Ron choke to death on strands of thought.

 

Hermione struck by purple fire.

 

Neville with his flailing legs and broken nose trying to cast spells with hindered speech and borrowed wand.

 

The cold and dilated pupils of Lucius Malfoy as he had lunged at Harry, demanding he hand over the prophecy.

 

  Lucius. If Lucius hadn't interfered then maybe Sirius would still be alive. If Harry had been quicker, he could have gotten Neville somewhere safe and gone back to the fight. If Lucius hadn't distracted Harry and blocked his view, he could've taken out Bellatrix himself.

 

  Harry took off his glasses but he could still see him. Lucius, Lucius, Lucius. The long blonde hair, the death eater mask long gone and the grey steel of his gaze. He was right there and all Harry had to do was reach out and squeeze his throat. Lucius was so near and immobile, Harry had the perfect chance. He lunged forward and wrapped his hands around the pale neck. Magic would've been useless here. Harry needed to feel it as Lucius' life was chased away.

 

  Lucius tried to fight but Harry dug in harder and shook and watched his eyes stutter. Harry needed this. Needed Lucius gone so he can get to Sirius in time. This one last obstacle and he was free.

 

  A sharp prod to his eye had Harry letting go and flailing backwards as he snarled and held his face. How dare he? How dare he stop him? He had been so close. Harry replaced his glasses and every feeling inside him went still and cold.

 

  In front of him, Draco, not Lucius was on all fours gouging his fingers into the wooden floor and hacking on air; a collar of fingerprints peppered his aching neck and now it was Harry's turn to breathe deep as his own airways closed. Harry thought he could feel it as his capillaries rebelled and the room began to spin and shrink and Harry had to get out. He fell against the open door jamb and clung to it as he staggered and for a moment, Harry was trapped back in the cupboard under the stairs, begging to be let out with no one to hear him.

 

  He hauled himself forward, back out into the wilds of the storm. He needed to get as far from Draco as he could but no matter how far he may have ran, Harry couldn't run from what he had almost done. Harry had strangled Draco half to death and this time, there was no Voldemort in his head to blame. The spitting hate and coiling anger were all his own and Harry was half-way across the pitch when he had to stop and throw up.

 

This is not who I am thought Harry. 'This is not who I am.' This time he screamed it and collapsed into the grass.

 

  Harry dry heaved and curled forwards and sunk his head to the ground. I'm not a killer, I'm not a killer, he repeated over and over and over and over and yet he could not stifle the voice in his head which told him, 'it's okay Harry, we know, but people have a habit of dying when you're around. Think about it.'

 

Harry knew it was right. All the lives he'd lost because of him, because he had to play the hero. No more, 'No More.'

 

'I should bloody hope not. Fucking hell Potter I know we don't like each other but running away, that was cold.'

 

  Harry couldn't face Draco. The fact that he was here talking, or rather rasping to him was more than Harry felt he deserved and Draco was right. He shouldn't have run.

 

'All I did was try to get you back the castle but no, you had to be a stubborn git. But tell me, what did I do? How did I offend the great Harry Potter? Did I breathe wrong?' Draco snorted at his own bad joke but he was now starting to worry and it pissed him off. Potter seemed intent on staying as small as possible and the more he looked the more he thought he could see blood on Potter's clothes, as well as bruises hugging his collarbone under his jumper. Maybe Professor Snape had a point. Potter needed help.

 

'Come on Potter, I'm not catching cold for you,' but Harry still couldn't move. 'This is ridiculous, I’m leaving.' Those words seemed to do something for Harry. His arm shot out to latch onto the hem of Draco's trousers as though he'd been defibrillated.

 

'Please don't,' he whispered and pulled on the material until Draco got the hint and knelt on the grass with him.

 

'Potter I--' but Draco was cut off as Harry sat up at last only to grasp Draco's cheeks and Draco flinched. Harry stroked Draco's face and hid his head against the wet shoulder and it was like Professor Lockhart had removed Harry's bones again, only this time in his whole torso as he sagged against his rival and grieved.

 

Draco was annoyed at first, and then offended when Potter decided to use him as pillow, but he grew alarmed when he felt Potter start to shake.

 

'Potter this isn't funny. This-' and he couldn't say anymore as felt more than heard Harry break. It started with a tremble in the hands on Draco's face as they tumbled to Harry's lap. It then travelled up Harry's spine and settled in his too thin shoulders. Draco could see the back of Harry's neck that had been exposed by his jumper and saw a bruise forming.

 

  Draco didn't know what to do so he held him. It was a bit awkward as they were facing each other and kneeling, but Draco managed to curl an arm about Harry's waist and to Draco's surprise, Harry relished the contact and clung harder and tried to form a word.

 

'sorrysorrysorrysorrysorry' was washed out against Draco's shirt and the wisps of air did little to warm him but Draco didn't notice anything except the raw pain that seemed to follow Harry's words. Whatever had happened in the last however long Draco didn't know, but the aftershocks were in front of him and what use were his good grades and intelligence when he couldn't fix this?

 

'Listen Potter, I'm not good at this. My mother is good at this but she's not here so you're stuck with me.' Draco didn't know if this would help but he could, and needed, to hear something other than the storm and pain. 'Or not, I could go and get that Mudblood friend of yours and the Weasel to fish you out of your stupor.'

 

  For a moment Draco held his breath in preparation of another throttling but it never happened. 'Shit Potter, now I really am concerned.' Draco had been so sure insulting his friends would've had some effect, but even they seemed beyond Harry's state of mind. Draco decided to forget his own bruised self and listened with the storm and waited for it and Harry, to blow themselves out.

 

  Harry was beyond words now, and Draco's own filtered to Harry's ears and fell onto a buffer of Harry's own heartbeat. Harry felt numb with more than the cold but wasn't that what he'd wanted? To get away and cool down? Yes, but now Harry was revelling in the warmth from all points of contact he had with Draco. He revelled like a drunk man for it meant Draco was still alive, meant he too hadn't toppled like a pin in the line of people who'd stood up for him. Harry wanted to laugh but he was too broken. Draco, stand up for him? Yeah right. They could barely stand each other but here Draco was, holding Harry and letting him use him as a prop to hang his grief.

 

  They sat there a long time and the storm seemed content to wait until Harry had managed to release the worst of himself at this moment. It watched as Harry cleaved himself to the blonde, and it was sure that the arm Draco had around the boys' waist, was the only thing stopping the storm from scooping Harry up and dropping him where it would take any who remembered him a long time to find.

 

  Draco's back at last began to protest the position it had been placed in and demanded a change. Draco agreed with it but when he began to shift, hands gripped his sides and wouldn't let go.

 

'Honestly Potter my backs' stiff. I'm just shifting positions. Never knew you were so needy.'

 

  Harry refused to let go as Draco attempted to stand. Enough of this, thought Draco. He stood up and Harry's whimper led him to turn in Harry's hold and piggy-back Potter back to the changing rooms.

 

'I hope this isn't permanent Potter. I'd like to be an old man before a cripple thank you.'

 

Draco frowned as he felt the skin of Harry's hands. He couldn't feel anything and realised they were both so cold, human touch was negated.

 

'For fuck's sake. We're getting ill and I'm blaming you. No two ways about it.' Realising they needed to warm up, Draco carried Harry towards the showers. Now all he had to do was get through to Harry. 'Hey Potter. I need you to let go. I'm not leaving, I'm just turning on the shower ok?' No reply. 'Great. Stupid comatose Gryffindor. If I lose my next Quidditch back because you damaged my muscles I'll put you in a real coma and it'll look like an accident.'

 

  Draco turned the shower on, thought screw it and just pulled them both under fully clothed. Draco managed to dislodge Harry for the few seconds needed to turn around and face him again. He almost wished he hadn't. In the light he could see panda bruises under Harry's eyes and the water peeled away a red trickle from Harry's clothes.

 

  Draco removed Harry's glasses and set them on the soap dish and as he did, he felt angry at whoever had done this and wasn't that a bludger in the teeth? No, I don't care what happened. I want Potter off me and back into the warm castle. The warm castle with food and bed and dammit Potter. Draco had sneezed.

 

  Harry was starting to feel warm again. He wasn't sure why but he knew it had something to do with Draco, and who knew both those things could go together? He was aware of movement but he still wasn't ready to commit to his own yet. His arms were slung about Draco's neck and that jogged something in him.

 

  Draco registered a rigidity in Harry's body and pulled Harry's face up to look at him. He looked like he was going to be sick again and Draco was going to tell him he could sod off he thought he was going to do it on him when Draco hissed as Harry prodded one of his bruises.

 

  Harry couldn't look away, he didn't want to. He almost killed Draco, and Harry wanted to scribe it into the back of his hands with one of Umbridges' special quills. Scratch it in deep under, 'I must not tell lies.'

 

'Dammit Potter that hurts.'

 

'I'm sorry,' said Harry, very close to a whisper. He did it again and Draco swatted his hands away.

 

'I said, that hurts, not, do it again that feels great.'

 

  But Harry wanted to do it again. Not to hurt Draco but to get him to fight back, to push him away, to hit him. Anything to keep proving he was still alive still in front of him so Harry did it again in two places and this time, Draco jabbed him on his battered collarbone. Harry bent over in pain and glared at Draco.

 

'Oh you deserved it. Bloody Gryffindor.' Draco took a step back but Harry grabbed his shoulders and yanked him forward. 'Oh not again Potter. I'm not a bloody toy.' Harry grinned a little and his forehead reclaimed it's perch on Draco's shoulder. It was comfy. 'Fine but this is just because I feel sorry for you.' Harry was fine with that.

 

  They stood like that a little while under the warm spray. It was between that and Draco's body heat, that Harry started to relax. He would still need time, a lot of time. He'd spent so much of this year angry but now he was free to breathe for a while. Harry felt some warmth seep into his being again and he thought of Ron and Hermione and knew there would be a need to talk but for now, he was content to let that wait.

 

'I really am sorry Malfoy.'

 

'Yeah well, if it happens again my father will be hearing about it,' and the moment he said it, Harry started to laugh and laugh and laugh over the edge of hysteria and ventured towards the land of insanity and it frightened Draco.

 

'Potter stop. You'll stop breathing and I'll have to drag your dead arse back to school. I mean it Potter you need to stop.' But he didn't, so Draco punched him.

 

  Harry went down and now he was crying again, hard loud sobs which flung themselves at the acoustics of the shower and came to shore against Draco's ear drums. It hurt Draco to watch. He now had some nasty suspicions in his head but he wasn't about to ask Harry to confirm them. Whatever this was, involved his father somehow but that could wait. For now, Harry was his priority and there was a sentence he never thought he'd say.

 

'Potter, I'm sorry for whatever happened but you need to calm down.'

 

In the wake of his panic, Harry latched onto Draco's voice and inhaled a shaky breath. He looked up at Draco but his vision was blurry.

 

'Can you help me stand? You stole my sight, prick.' Draco almost dumped him back on the tiles.

 

'You should thank me. Those glasses are ugly Potter.'

 

'Why Draco. I had no idea you were so concerned about my looks.' Harry pretended to swoon and batted his eyelashes.

 

'Don't flatter yourself. They offended me.' Draco looked at Harry and said. 'Do you think you can stand on your own?'

 

Harry breathed deep again and found it steadier than before. He nodded and took a step back to lean on the shower wall. However, being this height put him back on eye level with Draco's bruises. He shivered and rubbed his hands up and down his arms.

 

'Well if you insist on standing away from the water, you can't complain about the cold.'

 

'Yeah well I wouldn't have to if you weren't hogging the space.'

 

'You want space? There are six other showers along the wall. Use one.'

 

'Hmm, no ta. I like this one,' and Harry stood forwards and pushed Draco back with his hands on his hips.

 

'Hey, I was here first,' and pushed himself back into Harry's personal space.

 

  Harry snorted. 'How old are you Draco? Five?' Draco tried to push Harry away again but he didn't budge so he shuffled until they were both covered by the spray, Harry's hands still on Draco's hips.

 

'Hey do you hear that?' said Harry.

 

'What? Your talking?'

 

'No. I think the storms finished,' said Harry. Draco listened and realised he was right.

 

'Well I may have missed breakfast for you Potter, but I refuse to miss lunch.'

 

'But you have to take me to the hospital wing,' said Harry with a cheeky grin.

 

'Then get moving because I’m not carrying you again.'

 

  Harry laughed. Draco noticed his smile didn't quite reach the corners but it was an improvement over whatever the hell had stolen his face earlier. As they left, the sun was trying to come out again and Draco gave up hope of his clothes drying out before they got back. He said as much to Harry.

 

'Draco, you're a wizard. Just spell them dry.'

 

'I would but because _somebody_ went missing, Professor Snape wouldn't let me go back for my wand as you were a matter of urgency. I'm amazed you've lived this long.'

 

'So am I,' said Harry to his shoes. They continued in silence for awhile before Harry said,

 

'I'm sorry Draco.'

 

There was a snide comment just waiting for him but instead Draco said, 'So long as you don't tell anyone I, urgh, _hugged_ you, I think were even.'

 

  At last they reached the hospital wing and Madame Pomfrey scolded Harry to the point he looked so ashamed, Draco almost felt bad for laughing. Almost, until Draco sneezed three times on his way out. As Harry fell exhausted into his pillows and allowed Madame Pomfrey to administer a sleeping potion, he imagined he could hear Draco cursing him all the way back to the Great Hall.

**Author's Note:**

> This was also submitted as an assignment for university so it would be interesting to know what you made of it :)


End file.
